You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive
by Immortal Supernatural Freak
Summary: "I switched from looking at the knife, to my left arm, to whatever was in front of me – either my door or my widow – as I continued to pace back and forth, sweat from earlier running down the back of my neck, making my dirty and bloody clothes stick to me even more." When Stiles feels like everything is falling to bits, will anybody show up to save him. Or will he just break apart?


**Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please, please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from: **Mrs Bane

**JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD**

**Please, please review XD**

**NOTE: The italics an/or the bold are Stiles' warring thoughts, apart from the note Stiles' dad leaves for him. It's kind of obvious, but I thought I'd mention it, just in-case XD **

**Stiles**

After I turned on the lamp in my room, I closed the door quietly.

Dad was still at work, so it wasn't like he would have heard if I slammed it... But still, I shut it softly.

Straight away, I dropped my jacket onto the floor, walking over to my desk chair, sitting down slowly. I, silently, slid open the bottom draw in my desk, taking out the only object that I had placed in there: a foldable pocket knife.

Holding the small object in my hand, I kicked the draw shut, leaning back in the chair and staring at it.

Only minutes ago had we finished up with the latest big bad.

Only minutes ago was I almost killed.

Only minutes ago did I save everyone's asses, _again_, and not get a thank you.

Only minutes ago did I drive home in my Jeep, which had been battered from the assault given to it by a rogue werewolf, of whom we had been trying to get rid of for _weeks_!

Only minutes ago did I get back home, at two-thirty-six in the _fucking _morning, only to be alone because dad was working a double shift and wouldn't be home until the afternoon.

And that whole time I could only think of one thing.

Only one thing going through my head.

_Why do I even bother?_

I always know what the result is going to be, no matter what I do. I'll be thrown against solid objects, growled at, threatened, almost killed, saved, only to save people. And what thanks do I get? Oh, only just the whole thing to be repeated again and again and again and _again_!

I know I do it because I have, and want to... And I always do it, thinking that maybe I would get a different result, a _better_ result...

But why would _I _be so lucky? Why would _I _deserve to have that?

So, again, it leaves me to wonder: _why do I even bother?_

Standing up, with the knife unfolded and clenched tightly in my right hand, I started to pace.

I hadn't had any Adderall in a week and I had felt the effects from day one... I had forced myself to stay on one topic at the time, which is harder than you think and it hurts your head like _hell_!

Plus, you know, the short temper doesn't help with things, the confusion... It's not fun being all over the place.

I switched from looking at the knife, to my left arm, to whatever was in front of me – either my door or my widow – as I continued to pace back and forth, sweat from earlier running down the back of my neck, making my dirty and bloody clothes stick to me even more.

I needed a shower and to change... I knew that... I just _couldn't_ seem to stop pacing or gripping the knife.

I _couldn't_ stop the slight shake to my hands.

I _couldn't_ stop the bile rising in my throat.

I _couldn't_ stop the stinging in my eyes.

I _couldn't_ stop the panic from growing.

I _couldn't_ stop my heart from beating so quickly.

I _couldn't_ stop my breathing from being so short and shallow.

I _couldn't stop wanting_ to put the sharp, serrated edge of the knife against the skin of my left forearm, just to draw the knife towards me, cutting my flesh like melting butter.

With that I turned, throwing the knife at the wall, screaming...

The sharp point stuck into the wall, leaving the knife hanging there. Mocking me. The cold metal of the blade glistening in the dim lamp light, the wooden handle darkening in the shadows cast over it, making it all the more worse.

I didn't even realise I had started crying until I lifted my hands up, to drag my hands over my face.

Turning my back on the wall, I dropped down onto the floor, leaning against the end of my bed as I bawled my eyes out...

I was a mess.

Had been since I had that stupid knife in that draw...

But back then I needed it. Sometimes I still do. All I wanted to do was go over to it, yank the thing out of my wall and get it over and done with. Then I could throw it back in the draw and just get on with the self-loathing.

_I promised myself I would stop._

**No one has to know...**

_I would know_...

**But you want to. You **_**need**_** to!**

_No! I don't... I never do._

**You want to feel it. The pain, the release, the feeling of just being able to let it all go.**

_But, I..._

**You **_**need**_** it. No point arguing. Just do it...**

**Do it.**

**Do**_** it.**_

_**Do it.**_

_**DO IT!**_

Dragging a pillow off of my bed, I pressed it to my face, screaming into it, _hoping _to get rid of some of the frustration building up.

I couldn't do it... I promised myself I would stop...

**But we knew that wouldn't happen. You're weak. Pathetic. Alone. Always have been, always will. Your own **_**father **_**doesn't even want to be around you.**

_Shut up. No. My dad loves me..._

**Then why is he never around? Why is no one ever around you, unless they want something? **

I stopped.

All noise stopped.

I sat there, slowly lifting my tear stained face out of the pillow, and chucking said object to the side. Shakily running a hand through my hair, I hauled myself up before slowly pulling off my checkered shirt, throwing it carelessly to the ground, taking my t-shirt off as an afterthought.

Carefully, I walked over to the wall _it _was stuck in, moving until I had my hand around it. Jiggling it a little, I managed to pull it free, gripping it in my right hand just like before. Only, this time, instead of pacing, I resumed my seat on floor.

Twisting my wrist a little, I watched as the light bounced off of the metal blade, making it sparkle in the dimly light room.

**That's it. Now, just like before. Put it on your skin and **_**PULL**_**! Make it **_**hurt**_**!**

As more and more tears rolled down my face, I lifted my right hand up, moving it slowly over to my left forearm.

It was something I had done many times in the, almost, seven years since my mom had died...not that anyone ever knew.

Taking a deep breath, I was close to placing the cool serrated edge of the knife against my overheated skin, needing to release some of the pressure, needing something to help me relax...

But, before I could, a hand grabbed my wrist in a firm yet gentle grip.

It should have been sad that I could identify who it was, just by looking at the hand on my wrist... I mean, I shouldn't have been able to do that, yet I could...

Neither of us said nothing as he uncurled my fingers, one by one, until he could take the knife and put it somewhere I couldn't get it. The whole time, he kept a hold of my wrist, the pressure almost reassuring.

**They only want you when they want something. **

And didn't that fact hurt more when it applied to the best friend you've had forever and helped with everything, as well as the certain Alpha wolf you may or may not have had a bit of a thing for.

_But the hunt's over... There's nothing else..._

**Werewolves have needs too. The others are **_**involved **_**with someone else in the Pack. You're easy prey.**

_Derek wouldn't do that..._

**Wouldn't he? Then why's he here? Why's he touching **_**you**_**? He wants one thing and one thing only. And you're the only one he can get it from right now.**

But then Derek was hugging me.

_See, Derek wouldn't do that._

Derek was hugging me... And I wasn't pushing him away.

Instead, I just leant into him more as the waterworks started all over again.

* * *

><p>I was alone when morning came.<p>

Alone, as always.

It made me wonder if I imagined Derek coming through my window; made me wonder if the stress and lack of Adderall and sleep deprivation were finally getting to me and playing with my mind, making me see things.

It wasn't too stupid a guess, it could happen.

It was more likely than Derek actually sneaking in my room, stopping me from marking my skin – _again _– and hugging me while I cried like a toddler that scraped his hand.

What made this worse?

Today was Monday, April 30th 2012, the first day back at school after spring break.

I was bruised and bloody, I was too tired to care... And it was time for school.

I only just managed to grab a quick shower and take my Adderall, for the first time in a _week_, before snatching up my backpack and keys to my Jeep, sprinting out of my house to get to school.

I probably shouldn't be driving. That much was a given... But I had made the drive to school before like this – _kind of _– and, even though I _shouldn't_ chance it, I _should _be fine.

The whole drive was spent trying to stay awake and concentrate on the road. That was made easier now my Adderall had kicked in, taking the pressure off of my head, clearing the pounding pain.

But that only gave way to the pain of remembering that, actually, nobody cared.

Well, that's a lie, my _dad _cared. But, because of everything that happened with my mom, he had to work more. Meaning we had less father-son time than we used to.

But my dad had a rational reason!

My friends didn't.

They didn't notice that I hadn't taken my Adderall in a week.

They didn't notice that I hadn't been eating or sleeping properly/at all.

They didn't notice that _I _was the one that saved out asses, after _almost _being killed.

They didn't notice that I was the one who did _all _the research, whilst also: doing school work, house work, cooking, taking care of my dad and me in general.

They didn't notice what I used to do... Scott never noticed _when_ I used to do it.

They didn't notice that I was struggling.

They didn't notice I was thinking of just ending it all sometimes.

They didn't notice.

They didn't care.

And, _man_, did that hurt more than any pressure in my head from lack of Adderall.

* * *

><p>Walking to my first class, I pretty much ignored the Pack. I ignored them all.<p>

I didn't answer when they called my name.

I didn't answer when they tried to get me to stop.

I didn't answer when Scott and Isaac used their puppy eyes.

I didn't answer when Erica and Jackson threatened bodily harm.

I didn't answer when Lydia snapped at me.

I didn't answer when Boyd insulted Batman.

I didn't answer when Danny tried to get me to talk about werewolves.

I didn't answer when Allison tried begging me to talk.

I just kept my mouth shut and headed to my English class, fully aware that I was feeling like I was about to collapse at any moment now.

No one in the Pack was in my English class.

Before, I saw that as a negative thing.

Right now?

It was something I was kind of appreciative of.

None of them could bug me. The only way they could contact me was via cell phone, and I had turned mine off.

So, I just sat in my usual seat, got out my books, grabbed a pen and tried to keep my eyes open.

For the first time in a long time, I was early to class.

Not many students were waiting, there was at least another ten minutes before the bell went, but here I was. Even my teacher – Mrs Bane – looked surprised.

Well, she looked surprised, right before she looked concerned.

I never noticed my blonde haired, violet eyed teacher walking over to me. I didn't hear the soft clack of her shoes, I didn't see her move.

I was too tired to notice anything I didn't have to concentrate hard on.

That was, until she was standing right in front of me.

"Mr Stilinski, is everything alright?" she asked, her voice low and worried.

"Yes ma'am." I whispered, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible.

Obviously I didn't do that very well.

"Mr Stilinski, I do believe you are lying to me." Mrs Bane sighed, taking out a small pad of paper she always had with her, writing on it. "You're far too pale; you're bruised and cut... You look like the walking dead. I advise you go home."

She handed me the note after I shoved my things back into my backpack and stood up, too sleepy to place them in the right places.

"Go to the main office and give them this." she told me, before lowering her voice. "Mr Stilinski... I'm obliged to ask, but... Your father..."

"My dad _wouldn't _do this to me!" I growled, quietly, swaying on my feet. "My dad loves me! And, with all due respect, how _dare _you even suggest that!"

With a nod, Mrs Bane sent me on my way.

With any other teacher, I wouldn't have gotten away with speaking like that... But that's one of the things that made Mrs Bane a great teacher: she _understood_.

Sure, she wouldn't let a student say or do anything rash, but little things like what I did? She let them slide. Especially if they happened to come from students who rarely snapped liked that.

I thought about that as I made my way to the main office, reaching it in under a minute – my class room was fairly close.

I, literally, just handed them the note – _was I still in Elementary school, or something?_ – letting them read the words on there before I did anything.

"We'll call your father to let him know." the woman behind the desk told me. "You just get yourself home."

They didn't need to tell me twice.

* * *

><p>I threw my backpack onto my desk chair, practically collapsing face first onto my bed, as soon as I walked into my room.<p>

I was too tired to get changed or move under the covers, so I left myself how I was.

But that's when it all crashed down on me...

I tried to keep it in. I tried to just forget about it and fall asleep...

But I couldn't keep it back.

And, just like that, the dams burst. The heavens opened.

I cried.

This was the second time I had cried, in under twelve hours.

But I couldn't stop it.

No matter what I did, I couldn't stop it.

I felt like I was chocking, I couldn't stop long enough to take in a proper breath. I couldn't stop shaking. I couldn't stop anything.

It was times like these that I wanted to take that knife, which was currently sitting on my desk chair, and just ram it through myself, just to end it all.

Just to end the pain.

But I couldn't do it. I could _never _do it.

I could _never _abandon my dad.

It was times like these that I wish I was normal. That I wish I could deal with everything, so I wouldn't be a liability to the Pack...

If I could change myself, I would. I would change everything I hated about myself without a second thought.

And it just made it hurt more that I couldn't do that.

It hurt more that I had to stay like this and be useless, until they needed me.

It hurt more that I had to stay a disappointment.

It hurt more that, because I had to stay like this, I was being asked if my _dad _was the one doing this to me.

It just _hurt_!

It was then that my window slid open. I didn't need to turn around to see who it was; I mean, there was only one person who entered my house via my bedroom window.

But they didn't land soundlessly like usual. They landed with a loud thud.

Not even bothering to hide my tears, not bothering to wipe them away, I sat up slowly, leaning back against the wall next to my bed, staring at big, black wolf.

Like, _full _wolf!

_I never knew Derek could do that..._

The wolf and I just stared at each other, the wolf with his head cocked to the side and me still crying...

Just as I was about to face plant my bed again, wolf-Derek moved, jumping up onto my bed to sit in front of me. The wolf whined, the noise high in his throat, nudging my un-bruised-but-cut cheek with his cold, wet nose.

Before I knew what I was doing, I threw myself at the animal, burying my face into its fur, while my arms wound themselves around its neck.

The wolf continued to whine, continued to nudge me – my shoulder this time – and pawed me until we were both lying down on my bed.

I lay on my back, while the wolf's head and front paws lay high on my chest. I still had my arms wound around his neck, head still buried into its fur.

He continued to whine, slowly trying to get closer, nudging my neck and chin and cheek and shoulder with his nose.

But it did nothing to stop the tears.

* * *

><p>For the life of me, I don't know when I fell asleep; all I remember was waking up the next morning,<p>

I was still on my back; I still had the sleeping wolf lying on me... The only thing that was different was my blinds were closed and a note was on my bedside table, along with a bottle of water and my Adderall dosage.

Trying not to move too much, I reached over to grab the paper and read it. Of course, I took my Adderall _first_, before I started reading it.

_Stiles,_

_You're staying home. No arguments, not buts, no ifs. _

_You're staying home until you don't look like an anorexic zombie!_

_I don't know what's happened for you to get like this, but I know it's something to do with that Pack of yours... I just want you safe and healthy, son._

_I'll call later, to check up on you. _

_Don't try to sneak off to school, they know you're not going back yet and will send you home if they see you._

_REST AND EAT! _

_See you later, son._

_Love,_

_Dad._

Yeah, dad knew me too well... It was scary how he could be in my head sometimes, and _know _what I would do. There was no denying that my father was a smart man.

I couldn't help but smile a little.

Shaking my head slightly, I placed the note from my dad back on my bedside table.

He had found out during the summer about werewolves and the supernatural. It was the first time I had ever seen him faint. It was the first time he worried so much that he grounded me to '_try to keep me safe_'. After a while, he – reluctantly – let me back out into the world, but that was after he had a _very _intense discussion – apparently – with Derek and Scott – and Chris Argent, whom the Pack had made a truce with, much to Scott and Allison's delight.

Sighing a bit, I looked down at the sleeping wolf, his head and two front paws on my chest, his body and hind legs on my bed, and his tail lying over my legs.

The wolf's fur was soft on my skin, and I wondered if Derek's hair felt the same. I had wondered that for a while... Even since the fear turned into...well... Let's just say that I was _definitely _over Lydia, and my dad was wrong when he said I wasn't gay.

Ok, maybe I wasn't gay. I could be bi... I wasn't too sure yet.

All I knew was, I was over Lydia and had moved right on to Derek.

Yet another unreachable person.

Subconsciously, I ran my hand repeatedly over the soft short fur on the wolf's head, taking time to scratch behind his ears...

Deny it as he may, dogs and wolves were closely related part of the same family... So, obviously, being a _born _werewolf, he would enjoy the attention a dog would normally get.

I just kept running my hand over the fur, just trying to ignore any thoughts that would break the dam again.

But, before any of those thoughts could worm their way through, the wolf woke up, eyes blinking open slowly. He nudged the underside of my chin with his nose, much like last night, with another high whine coming from his throat.

I gently moved the wolf's head and front paws off of me, before sitting up and sliding off of my bed and walking towards my chest of draws, taking out a bag of clothes, before walking over to my bedroom door.

I looked back at the wolf, who was now sitting up on my bed, watching me curiously. Rolling my eyes, I opened the door, gesturing with my head for him to follow me.

I didn't move again until wolf-Derek started to follow me.

I led the wolf down to the end of the hall, further away from the stairs, walking into the bathroom.

I placed the bag of clothes – _his _clothes – on the floor, pausing to run my hand over the wolf's head again, before leaving and shutting the door behind me, heading back to my room to change.

* * *

><p>I changed into my pyjamas – black sweatpants and an oversized batman t-shirt – before heading downstairs into the kitchen.<p>

I didn't know if Derek was still here or if he had left through my window already... But either way I set about making some coffee, and taking out some bacon and sausages and eggs out of their places to start cooking them.

And, just in case the wolf was still here, I made more than I would need if it was just me.

Glancing at the clock above the kitchen door, I saw that it had only just gone ten in the morning. Dad would, most likely, call around lunch...he usually did if I was home and he was working.

I heard movement from upstairs, _human_ movement. Heading past my room and towards the stairs.

_Huh, so he was staying. That's a first..._

I didn't turn around as he walked in, choosing to keep my attention in the food in front of me. If I didn't do that, then it would most likely burn.

Derek didn't say anything, as usual. But he didn't get in my way or try to get me to stop. He just let me do what I needed to.

In minutes, we were both sat at the kitchen table with breakfast, both of us focusing on the food and coffee, choosing the stay quiet.

It was hard for me, but I didn't want to talk.

Not right now.

But I knew I would have to at some point.

I knew I would have to explain myself at some point.

But that just couldn't be that moment then.

It just couldn't.

* * *

><p>Derek even helped my wash and dry up and put away, after we were done with the plates.<p>

Both of us grabbed another cup of coffee before we sat at the table again, facing each other.

I stared down at the liquid in my cup, avoiding looking at any part of Derek. Just trying to convince myself that he wasn't there, watching me, probably trying to figure out was wrong. Because I knew that if I realised someone was here, trying to find out what was wrong with me right now, the dams would break again.

And I didn't want that right now.

Not again.

"Why weren't you at school yesterday?" he asked, quietly, as if thinking that talking too loud would scare me off.

"Got sent home." I relied, just as softly.

"Why?"

"English teacher made me. Said I looked like the walking dead. Dad's keeping me home until I look less like a zombie and more human."

I scoffed slightly before Derek could reply, stopping him from saying anything.

"You know, my English teacher Mrs Bane, asked if my _dad _did this to me." I muttered, darkly. "My _dad_! Do you know how many people have asked me that? They asked if my _dad_, the guy who raised me, the guy who _loves _me, beats me and gives me all these bruises and marks. When, actually, no, it's the fucking _rogue werewolf_ that we've been trying to get rid off! But, _no_, can't tell them that! They'll think I'm crazy!"

Now that I started talking about this, I couldn't stop.

The words just kept coming and coming, as I stared down at my cup.

"But it's not _only _from the rogue werewolf. It's also from the people I _thought _were my friends, from myself, from the complete _assholes _that go to my school! But does anybody notice or care? NO!" I exploded, pushing my chair back to start pacing. "My dad is the _only one_ who cares, but he doesn't see it, because he's working to pay the bills and put food on the table! He's the _only one _who cares, but he keeps getting extra shifts put on him that he _can't _turn down! And it's not his fault!"

As I paced, my arms flailed madly out to the side, my hands sometimes raking through my hair and tugging harshly.

This was the first time I had voiced all this, and I'd be damned if I didn't get it all out.

"I'm only wanted when people _need _something. Research, advice, a shoulder to cry on, homework help. After that, they forget about me. It's like I'm _invisible_! Do you know how that feels?!" I yelled. "To be there for _everyone_ but have _no one _there for you?! Not constantly, anyway?! Do you know how much that _hurts_?! When you _know_ people are there, when you _know_ you've helped them, but they don't do _anything _in return?! When they don't even say _thank you_?! When you've saved their asses time and time again, but they _still _see you as the liability, the mess up, the outsider?!"

I was shaking.

I was angry.

Instead of crying, I was getting angry.

And that was fine by me.

"Did _any _of you notice that I hadn't taken my Adderall for a _week_?!" I asked, voice wavering and quiet. "Did _any _of you notice that I hadn't been eating or sleeping properly/at all; that _I _was the one that saved out asses, after _almost _being killed myself; that I was the one who did _all _the research, whilst also: doing school work, house work, cooking, taking care of my dad and me in general; that I was struggling?!"

I stopped, leaning against the counter to look at a frozen, wide eyed Derek.

"Did _any _of you notice that, sometimes, I was thinking of just ending it?" I whispered. "None of you noticed. Yet I noticed if one of you needed something. And it _hurts_, Derek. It _hurts_. And it hurts _more _because I know I can't change and be _better_ for you guys."

I bowed my head, staring at the kitchen floor as I felt the stinging in my eyes.

But I refused to cry this time.

I wouldn't do it.

And that's when Derek was hugging me.

He jerked me forward so my arms were trapped between our chests, only managing to twist my hands in his shirt, while he wrapped one arm around my waist and another high on my back, pressing my face into his shoulder while he pressed his into my hair.

I didn't realise that we had been walking until he had me sat on the couch in the living room, still hugging me like I was going to break if he didn't hold the pieces together...

It was like that, that I told him something that no one – not even my _dad _– knew.

"After my mom died when I was ten, I started cutting myself. I only _just _stopped when Scott was bitten, and he _never _realised." I whispered, making Derek tense and pull me closer to him. "No one ever noticed, no one knew. That's why I have that knife in my room. It's the one I used to use. Sometimes I want to start up again, but every time I go to get it, something comes up. Sometimes I just wanted to run it through myself, just so everything will stop, but I don't because I _can't _abandon my dad."

I pushed him back gently, lifting my arms up until they were straight out in front of me, in the light.

"You can't see them unless you know what you're looking for." I whispered. "I managed to not do them so deep that people wouldn't be able to see them, once they healed over. You're the only one, besides me, who knows."

Derek frowned, slipping off of the couch until his was kneeling on the floor in front of me, lifting his hand to run over the faint lines running over my forearms, seeing where I had opened my skin up so many times that I had lost count. He ran his thumbs over my wrists, tracing the slightly more viable cuts there.

I couldn't identify the look on his face.

I couldn't tell why he was doing this...

But before I could even think about it more, he yanked me forwards by my wrists, hiding his face in my neck and winding his arms around me again.

"I am _so sorry_." was all he said.

* * *

><p>Dad did call around lunch, asking if I was eating, if I had slept. Derek had been the one to answer the phone, so I had to explain that to him. And I told dad the truth this time. I told him that I told Derek what got me like this, and told dad that if he wanted to know I would tell him.<p>

I would tell dad _everything _that I had told Derek. Because he deserved to know.

That calmed dad down after I told him that, telling me that he'd be home that night, for definite this time. And I knew that he actually _would be_.

Derek had sat there the whole time while I talked to my dad, hearing both sides of the conversation. He didn't move, he didn't say anything, he didn't _do _anything.

"Why did you turn up yesterday? After I came home?" I asked, quietly, looking up at the wolf next to me.

"To get rid of that knife." he said, simply.

_So I wasn't imagining things... He actually _had _been there._

"Why did you come in as a wolf, though?" I whispered.

"I didn't control it." Derek admitted. "It made me change."

"Never knew you could go full wolf."

"Neither did I... That was the first time I was able to."

I nodded, leaning back into the cushions and wrapping my arms around my torso.

"Derek? Not that I'm not grateful but...why are you still here?" I asked, slowly, staring at my knees this time.

Derek didn't say anything.

Not that I expected an answer, to be honest. I kind of gathered that he would say nothing.

I guess some part of me hoped he would. Just like I thought some part of me thought that the cycle would change, if I continued to just do everything for the Pack.

I didn't even know if I was a proper part of it!

I rested my head on the back of the couch, resigned to the fact that I wouldn't get my answer, tightening the hold I had on my torso slightly.

"Because you're Pack." Derek said, his words startling me enough to get me to look up. "Because I _do _care. Because I'm worried. Because I want to."

I sat there, blinking at him, not saying anything.

Instead, I unwrapped my arms from around myself, moved over to Derek and pushed myself into his side, leaning the side of my head on his shoulder.

Derek did nothing but drop his arm around me.

* * *

><p>When I next opened my eyes, it was still Tuesday. Only now it was Tuesday afternoonevening.

I was still on the couch, but I was alone this time. Derek wasn't there.

But I could hear _two _voices coming from the kitchen, and one of them was my dad's.

So, getting up as quietly as I could, I walked out of the living room, until I was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, listening to Derek and my dad talking, neither of them realizing I was there.

"You and Scott _both _promised me you would look after him!" dad snapped. "Scott promised me as his best friend, you promised me as his Alpha and his... What was it you called it?!"

"Mate." Derek muttered, softly. "But he doesn't know that..."

_MATE?! _I had read about Mates in one of the many books I had found, but I never for a second thought it was true!

_Was that why Derek cared so much? Because I was his_ Mate?!

**If you were his Mate, this wouldn't have happened in the first place.**

_But he just said... And _dad _knew..._

**Maybe they just like messing with you. Maybe they know you're listening.**

_They can't... Well, Derek might..._

**See. Derek should know you're there. He's playing you.**

_Derek wouldn't do that!_

**Wouldn't he?**

"I don't _care _if he knows it or not! Bottom of the line is my _son _looks like a _zombie_!" dad growled. "Stiles is the only family I have left and, so help me God, if I lose him, I will _hunt you down_ and _kill you_, do I make myself clear, _Hale_?!"

"Yes, sir." Derek whispered, looking so much like a kicked puppy.

It was that look that got me to ignore my warring thoughts.

"Leave him alone, dad. He looks like he's been shot with wolfsbane." I chuckled, pushing myself off of the door frame.

Their heads turned so fast that I swear I heard them both click! And I was positive this was the first time I had seen Derek blush.

_Ever!_

"Son, how long have you been standing there?" dad asked, quietly, glancing at Derek briefly.

"Not long. Only from the '_You and Scott _both _promised_' part just now." I shrugged.

I didn't miss the fact that all the colour drained out of Derek's face.

"But that's a conversation for another day." I added, walking over to my dad.

My old man didn't hesitate to pull me into the biggest bear hug he had given me. _Ever!_ I swear, if he was a werewolf – thank _God _he wasn't – I would have broken bones about now.

"You, young man, have a lot of explaining to do." dad sighed, putting a hand on the back of my neck. "Derek, I swear, you try to leave and I will stuff so much wolfsbane down your throat you'll choke before it kills you!"

I couldn't help but laugh...

* * *

><p>Before long, I had dad caught up.<p>

From when had happened with the rogue wolf, to everything I had been thinking, all the way up to now. And, yes, I told him about the knife and the self harm...

I thought he was going to start crying when I told him that.

I told him everything, and I didn't hold back.

"Man, you have no idea how good it feels to finally tell you." I groaned, letting my head fall back as I slouched in the chair I was sitting on in the kitchen. "Almost _seven years _I've been keeping that to myself! Well, the cutting part anyway... And, I promise, I've stopped... Sometimes I just get the urge to do it again, though."

"Like early hours of Monday morning." Derek muttered.

I cringed at that.

I think I always would.

"Yeah, like then." I agreed, lifting my head up properly. "Thanks for stopping that, by the way."

Derek just nodded as he stared at the wooden table, while dad sat there still trying to digest what I had told him.

Dad slouched in his chair, dragging his hand over his paled face, before taking a long drink from his beer.

Dad nodded slightly, placing a hand on my arm – I had shown him the faint scratch like scars – turning to look at Derek as he did so.

"You better talk those pups of yours, Hale." dad sighed. "Otherwise you're _all _in the dog house."

"So I get the dog jokes from _you_!" I grinned.

* * *

><p>Before Derek could leave, I told him that he needed to explain what I had overheard. Reluctantly, he agreed and said he would stop by tomorrow.<p>

Something told me that he was going to do that anyway.

Dad had the rest of the day off – it was only half four when Derek had left – so we spent the time how we used to/always do.

Together.

We talked.

We watched TV.

We talked about mom.

We ordered take out, instead of cooking.

We just did normal father-son stuff.

I had missed that.

"I wish you told me about this sooner, Genim." dad told me, using me given name.

He hadn't used my given name since I came up with '_Stiles_'. And I only chose '_Stiles_' because I used to say my last name '_Stiles-inski_' instead of '_Stilinski_'.

He had never really used '_Genim_' after that... Mom was the only one who did...

"I know, dad..." I mumbled. "I just... I didn't want to put that on you too."

"Genim Alexander Stilinski. I am your _father_." dad said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You can tell me anything, at any time, no matter what. I don't care what's going on with work, I don't care what else is going on, if there is something I needed to know that concerns you, you tell me. No matter what it is. Understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand, dad."

"Good. And I'll say this now: if you do decide to date Hale, you tell me straight away. No sex until you're eighteen. Yes, I'll be fine with you two being together. And I don't care what you say; I will threaten to shoot him all I like if it means he looks after you."

I didn't know what to say.

I didn't know if there was even a way to reply to that.

So, instead, I just laughed and hugged the silly old man I was delighted to be able to call my dad.

* * *

><p>I went to sleep feeling a little less weighted down than I had that morning.<p>

I _definitely _felt better than I had on Monday.

Dad had taken the knife I had up in my room to work with him, on my insistence, just so it was nowhere near me. I mean, I almost cracked early hours of Monday morning... I didn't want to chance that happening again.

Derek had appeared right before dad was about to leave, dad only pausing to give the Alpha wolf a nod of his head before leaving the house.

That had to count for something, right? I mean, he didn't threaten him..._again_.

"Hungry?" I asked, after just standing by the front door for a couple of minutes in silence. "Want a drink?"

"Coffee... Please." Derek mumbled, nodding his head.

Of course, should have guessed.

I mean, the guy looked like he didn't sleep last night – I knew how that felt – so of course he'd want coffee.

"Go sit on the couch, I'll bring it in. Cream, two sugars, right?" I called over my shoulder as I made my way into the kitchen.

A small '_yeah_' was what I got in return.

The coffee was still hot from where dad had brewed it earlier, so I just poured some in a cup, added the cream and sugar, stirring it, before taking it to where the wolf was sitting.

I passed the guy the cup, sitting down with my glass of apple juice – it was delicious, shut up – sitting side ways on the couch so my side was pressed against its back, legs crossed and facing Sourwolf.

"You still look like a zombie." Derek muttered, guilt lacing his tone.

"Dude, it's been two days, _of course _I still look like a fucking zombie!" I sighed, rolling my eyes. "You don't look any better. Are you really that worried about me?"

Even though I was just teasing, I couldn't help but notice the small blush Derek tried to hide with his cup.

"Wait... You're really that worried about me?" I repeated, this time completely serious. "Is this b-because of the Mates thing?"

Hesitantly, the werewolf nodded, the hand not holding the coffee cup curling into a fist as his face bother paled and flushed.

"Wh-What does it mean exactly?" I asked, slowly. "I only know what I read, and I don't know which is fact and which is fiction."

Taking a steadying breath, Derek put his cup down on the coffee table in front of the couch, and I copied him, doing the same with my glass.

The Alpha wolf ran a hand through his hair, nervously, sighing as he slumped back into the cushions.

I just sat there and waited for him to talk. Just like he did with me, Tuesday morning.

"It means you're _mine_." he growled. "Werewolves 'mate' for life. We have _one_ Mate and _one_ Mate only. You're mine."

"How long have you known that?" I asked, quietly, nodding a little.

"The whole. Damn. Time."

"And you were an ass because you didn't want me to be?"

"I was an ass so you wouldn't find out. You're too young, you could get hurt. I've lost enough people in my life already."

Oh...

_Oh!_

"My dad's ok with it." I told him, making the wolf's head snap up in surprise. "He told me this whole bunch of stuff last night about if we, well, got together, and he's fine if we get together, I just need to tell him straight away, he won't stop threatening you and, you know, no sex until it's legal."

And Derek looked like he was about it _explode_... It was actually a little funny, if I was being honest... But I stopped myself from laughing..._just_.

"You know, before dad knew about all the supernatural stuff, I tried to make an excuse as to why I was at the gay club, when Jackson was a Kanima and not the werewolf he is now." I carried on, rushing my words. "Told my dad I was gay. He said I couldn't be, not with the way I dressed. He was half wrong. I mean, I may not be a gay, but I'm definitely bi, and you helped me realise that, dude. I mean, I don't even know when it happened, but somehow I moved on from Lydia and started pining after you."

If Derek's eyes got any wider, I think they would have popped right out of his head. It would have been funny if my heart wasn't _thrumming_.

"You were telling the truth." Derek whispered, dumbly.

"No shit, Sherlock." I snorted. "Now, you gunna kiss me or what?"

As soon as those words left my mouth, I was pulled right into Derek's lap, his hands landing on my hips to drag me closer. Derek slowly leaned in, giving me plenty of time to move if I wanted to. But I didn't, in fact I even moved closer. The press of Derek's lips on mine was gentle and reassuring, sending my stomach flipping and heart stuttering – _God, I sounded like a girl! _

But at this moment, I couldn't care less.

This wasn't like what I thought it would be. It was neither rushed nor desperate nor a simple press of lips against lips. It was almost somewhere in the middle, a happy medium.

It was the complete opposite of what you would think it would be like if you saw Derek – it wasn't rough, hard, fast, filthy – the _complete _opposite. But it wasn't overly soft, gentle, slow, sweet. Again, it was in-between all of it. It made me smile a little, calming something inside of me, almost finding something I had been missing – not the kiss, but Derek himself.

I guess, in a way I had been missing something, and I was going to stop this train of thought because I was sounding girly and sappy and mushy.

"I can't believe that all the time you've been trying to make me hate you, we could have been doing _that_!" I breathed as we pulled apart, foreheads resting against each other. "You are _so _making up for that!"

And Derek did something I never thought I'd see/hear.

He _grinned and laughed_!

I swear, I died and went to heaven! And I was pretty sure my heart stuttered.

"I promise, nothing like what happened this past week will happen again." he muttered.

"Good. Because it wasn't fun." I told him. "Just because I can afford to miss class, doesn't mean I _should_."

To cut off any reply Derek may have said, I just leaned back in.

* * *

><p>We spent the rest of the day like that.<p>

Well, not exactly like that...

Derek told me the facts about Mates.

We kissed.

We just talked, getting to know each other better.

We kissed.

Derek told me he scolded the pups.

We kissed.

Basically, we just hung out...with a little bit of making out.

All in all, it was a good day!

"Scott wants to know why you're not answering you cell, by the way." Derek mumbled, nuzzling my neck slightly as we watched this random thing on TV and I was leaning with my back against his chest. "Was freaking out real bad."

"Turned it off on Monday." I sighed, shivering as I leant my head to side. "I'll turn it on later... Maybe tomorrow or something."

Apparently scenting was a big thing with werewolves. Especially between Mates. Apparently werewolves were possessive, especially if one Mate was human... And, it just so happened that Alpha wolves were _more _than just a little possessive.

Not that I cared it the slightest!

I mean, I was thinking of deliberately getting another wolf's/human's scent on me, just to see what Derek would do!

"Good call." he growled, nipping slightly at the skin on my neck, low enough for my t-shirts to hide any stupid bruises the possessive Alpha wolf would give me...

I was, strangely, looking forward to that... And I think Derek could tell.

_I blame the werewolf senses._

But, hey, if he knew, maybe he would make them faster! I mean, I wouldn't mind _his _kind of bruises.

"You know, Scott's going to completely lose his shit once he finds out." I chuckled. "_Man, _I can't wait to see that!"

I could honestly say that Derek's laugh did many things to me... Especially when I could feel the vibrations through my back.

* * *

><p>The whole Pack had apologised when dad deemed me well enough to see people other than him and Derek, but not yet well enough to go back to school.<p>

It was just a shame that they walked in when Derek had his tongue shoved down my throat. I mean, _no one _liked to be interrupted!

And, yeah, it was _awesome _watching Scott freak out... I mean, he pretty much _screamed_! I don't think I stopped laughing for a good two/three minutes.

But, yeah, they apologised.

They said they felt like shit for not realising.

I didn't tell them about the knife stuff or the scars on my arms, and neither did Derek. I was just happy with my dad and my _Mate_ knowing about that.

And, even though I kind of wanted them to leave so Derek could put his tongue _back _down my throat, I was happy that they all decided to stay to just...hang out.

Though, Sourwolf and I did make sure Scott suffered by just making out of the couch like we had been before we had been interrupted.

I just flipped him off when he started to complain and whine.

I was too content to stop now, and I never would stop.

_Guess you _didn't_ need to bleed just to know you were alive._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please, please review XD<strong>_

_**Thanks so much everyone XD**_


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